


Scars

by dreamsofspike



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5321732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is a little teaser/time-stamp for a longer fic I'm working on, in which some very terrible things happen to Adam. One of those things results in his being semi-permanently blinded. This little piece is just a brief couple of scenes of his and Blake's life together after his injury, during his recovery, during Adam's first season back on the show. </p>
<p>I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it whets your appetite for the longer fic to come - keep an eye out for it. :) It's called "(Nothing Can Save Me But) The Sound of Your Voice" after a lyric from the Maroon 5 song, "How".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: physical deformity/scarring; vague reference to trauma due to violence and abuse, both physical and sexual in nature

Her voice makes Blake want to weep.

And he’s heard a lot of voices. Very few of them have made him feel the soul-deep ache he feels when the longing, mournful words of “Someone Like You” ring out in that sweet, clear, yearning voice. It takes all of five seconds for him to push his button – and that’s two seconds longer than it takes Adam. Gwen and Pharrell are not far behind.

The moment his chair is turned, Blake tries to hide his visceral reaction of shock. He is acutely aware of the cameras on him, and he keeps an encouraging smile on his face – but inwardly, he’s wincing in pain at the sight of the girl.

She’s covered in scars – and not clean, pale, easily covered with a little makeup kind of scars, either. Dark, livid scars, puffy and raised, almost monstrous in how deeply they mar the girl’s appearance.

Blake feels like a terrible person when he finds himself considering her flawless, win-worthy voice, and still thinking, _“Yeah, but will people_ vote _for her if they can’t even stand to_ look _at her_?”

She finishes the song, a beaming smile on the half of her lips that are clearly distinguishable. Blake glances down the line at Adam, who’s leaning forward in his chair, one hand cupping his chin, captivated, and oblivious to the physical deformity that Blake finds so upsetting. Blake feels even guiltier for the selfish relief he feels that Adam was spared such injury in the course of events that took his sight. His features are as pretty as ever, his sightless eyes still beautiful. Their lack of focus actually gives him a sort of dreamy look as he addresses the girl with a beaming smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She laughs a little, breathless with exhilaration.

“What’s your name?”

“Melissa,” she answers, catching her breath.

“Hi, Melissa. God, you’re beautiful,” Adam continues without missing a beat.

She blinks, startled – and Blake’s heart is struck with a dozen unnamable emotions at once. A sort of hush falls over the room as the girl stammers out a halting, self-conscious, “Th-thank you.” There are tears on her face, that beautiful voice breaking over the words.

Adam sits up a little, frowning slightly. Blake isn’t surprised by his reaction. Ordinarily, his blatantly flirtatious technique and his winking little joke at his own expense would have earned a laugh from the crowd – but no one dares to laugh now.

“What?” Adam asks, clearly aware that he’s missing something. “You don’t _need_ eyes to know that this girl is beautiful.” No one attempts to explain. Adam is speaking to the entire room when he raises his hands leadingly and insists, “Well, isn’t she?”

After a beat of silence, the crowd seems to settle on a reaction as one. They erupt into thunderous applause, on their feet, cheering and clapping. Melissa stares for a moment in stunned disbelief, before she buries her face in her hands, shoulders shaking, overwhelmed.

In that moment, Blake is certain of two things.

One, he was foolish to worry about whether or not people would vote for Melissa. Based on the crowd’s reaction, Melissa is probably going to win the whole damn thing. And two – there’s no possible way she’s going to do it on any team but Adam’s.

When the roar has died away, Melissa ventures a tearful half-explanation. “I – don’t get that a lot.”

“I can’t imagine why not,” Adam declares, a mild note of offense in his voice at the implication. “I can hear your heart in your voice, and it’s the most breathtaking thing. No, I can’t see you – but I don’t have to, to know that you’re an incredible person, with an incredible talent. You’re going to win this thing, Melissa. _Please_ let me be by your side when you do.”

Melissa’s sold – Blake doesn’t know how she couldn’t be at this point – but she glances uncertainly down the row of coaches, as if unwilling to be unfair to the others.

“I can’t…” Gwen shakes her head, laughing, but there are tears on her face. “I can’t even bring myself to fight him for her. I mean, it’s handing him the whole game, but – she _belongs_ on Team Adam.”

The crowd roars, and then the roar falls away into a slowly rising chant – Adam’s name.

Adam looks bemused, sitting back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head, a cocky smirk on his lips as he shrugs slightly. “Can’t argue with that.”

Then Gwen is chanting with the audience, and Pharrell too, and Blake finds himself joining in. It’s a matter of seconds before Melissa nods, crying and smiling at once, as she says, “I couldn’t do anything else. I choose Adam.”

The crowd comes apart, wild cheers and applause deafening as Adam stands up, punching the air, thrilled with his success. “Come here, girl,” he says, beckoning for Melissa.

She goes to him, her smile shy, eyes huge. He’s reaching out for her as she nears him, and she tentatively touches his arm to let him know where she’s standing. Immediately he pulls her into a warm hug.

“Don’t ever let _anyone_ make you feel less than beautiful,” Adam says in her ear, but his mike picks up the words – and the intensity of emotion with which he delivers them. “Your voice is going to touch a lot of people – and we’re going to win this thing!”

********************************************************

When they’re done for the day, and he’s finished talking with the new additions to his team, Blake goes to Adam’s trailer. He knocks on the door before opening it, making a point of announcing his presence before Adam has time for alarm.

“It’s me.”

Adam is sitting at his dressing table, leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed in the mirror – useless to him, but reflecting his soft smile, tired and satisfied, so that Blake can clearly see it. Adam doesn’t turn around – not much point.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

Blake comes up behind him, places his hands on his shoulders. Adam reaches up a hand to cover one of Blake’s. Blake feels a warm, low stirring at the contact, and tugs gently at Adam’s hand, moving around to stand beside him.

“C’mere,” he says his voice low and rough.

Adam’s smile slips a little. He swallows slowly, his lips parting in response to the need he hears in Blake’s voice, as he rises from his seat and turns directly into Blake’s arms. Blake slides his arms around Adam, steadying him, studying him, feeling a warm satisfaction when Adam relaxes easily into his hold – comfortable and trusting. Adam’s eyes are open, staring blankly past Blake’s shoulder, but as beautiful as ever.

“Everyone else gone for the night?”

“I think so.” Blake nods out of habit. “You were pretty amazing out there tonight,” he adds after a moment, reaching up a careful hand to touch Adam’s cheek.

Adam flinches just slightly – a surprise reaction, not any genuine fear, not as long as Blake is there with him. He turns into Blake’s touch, seeking the contact, his lips brushing Blake’s palm – and Blake wants him more than ever.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Blake whispers, hushed and reverent.

“Lame – stealing my lines.” Adam smiles, a little self-conscious, raising his hand to touch Blake’s.

“That line probably just won you this whole damn show,” Blake points out with a low laugh.

“No, that _voice_ ,” Adam corrects, shaking his head slightly, still clearly a little in awe. “It wasn’t a line. I meant it. She’s… _amazing_ …”

“ _You’re_ amazing.” Blake pulls him closer, his hand sliding back to run through Adam’s hair. “Want you so bad right now,” he confesses, hushed and shaky.

Adam blinks, eyes downcast, the last trace of distraction vanished from his voice as he answers simply, “You’ve got me.”

It’s all the invitation Blake needs. He guides Adam’s head, leans down to kiss his mouth, tender and possessive at once, his arousal stirring as Adam melts into his embrace, trusting and submissive. Blake turns them toward the bed, steering Adam backward in his arms until his knees brush the side of the mattress. Then Blake gently lifts him and lays him down, before standing up straight to unbutton his own shirt. Adam is breathing hard, his own desire obvious by now. His brow is furrowed, his voice a little uncertain.

“Blake?”

“Right here, babe,” Blake assures him. “Getting ready for you. I’m right here.”

Adam smiles, relieved, reaching out a hand. Blake takes it and places it against his thigh, now bare as he steps out of his jeans. He climbs onto the bed, slow and careful as he kneels over Adam, leaning down to take his face in his hands and kiss him deeply again. Adam returns the kiss with an urgent thirst, and Blake’s hands find the buttons at the front of Adam’s shirt, shaky fingers swiftly pulling them free until he can slide the soft fabric back over Adam’s shoulders, exposing soft, pale skin to the gentle slide of his own callused fingers.

Blake swallows hard, a knot forming in his stomach as his eyes catalogue once again every scar, every mark that reminds him of how Adam’s suffered. He’s glad Adam can’t see his face, can’t tell how horrified he feels every time he remembers what Adam went through – what Blake failed to protect him from. He doesn’t even realize he’s tracing his fingertips, whisper-soft across a long, thin scar that runs down from Adam’s shoulder across his chest, until Adam shivers, wriggling away a little, turning his face down into the pillow and closing his eyes.

“Don’t,” he whispers, and the anguish in his voice tears at Blake’s heart.

Adam can see the beauty beneath Melissa’s scars, sense her strength won through suffering – but he can’t see those things in himself. These days – that’s _all_ Blake can see when he looks at Adam – the awe-inspiring power and beauty that his abuser failed to take from him.

“I love you, Adam,” Blake responds softly, reaching out a hand to turn Adam’s face back toward him, though it’s a mostly useless gesture. He wills Adam to _sense_ what he feels, since he can’t see it. “ _All_ of you.”

Adam reaches up a self-conscious hand to cover the scar Blake touched, though the gesture is pitifully inadequate given the dozen more Blake can already see – the countless others still covered by Adam’s jeans. Blake hates the shame he sees on Adam’s face, as Adam swallows and whispers, “I’m sorry. I just – after – Melissa, it’s all – a little… close to the surface…” He swallows hard, his voice rising a little, trembling and rushed as he goes on. “… and you – sometimes… you touch them, and… it’s like I’m back there again, and… I can’t see your face, and…”

“You’re _not_ back there, Adam,” Blake states, gentle but emphatic. “You _got out_. These scars… babe, these scars are just proof that yeah, it happened – but _you_ were stronger. All right?”

Adam is too quiet, but he nods hesitantly, and Blake’s heart aches at the glistening of tears gathering in Adam’s lashes.

“When I see these scars, Adam,” Blake continues softly, slipping an arm around Adam’s waist, the other gently cupping his cheek, “I see how strong you are. And brave. And yeah… beautiful. You’ll _always_ be. None of this… changes that. Not ever.”

When Adam hesitantly turns his face back toward Blake, Blake leans in to kiss him softly, tasting the salt of his tears on his cheeks. Adam shifts until his mouth finds Blake’s, and he pulls him in closer, his body trembling, his breath soft and shuddering when they finally part.

“You okay?” Blake asks, quiet and careful.

“Yeah.” Adam nods, a hushed whisper breathed out warm and sweet against Blake’s neck. “I’m all right. As long as I can hear the sound of your voice.”


End file.
